


Our Dark Saviour

by Dominatenebras



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Torture, F/M, Harry/Voldemort - Freeform, Harrymort - Freeform, M/M, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatenebras/pseuds/Dominatenebras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is abandoned by the Dursley's at the age of 4. Growing up in an orphanage, full of children who hate him was the thing that made Harry snap. When he arrives at Hogwarts, he is clearly not as golden as people thought he would be. Harry hates Dumbledore and so goes to Voldemort, who knows more about him than Harry had thought... WILL BE LV/HP SLASH!</p>
<p>Ratings will go up after around chapter 10 (hopefully)!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "I didn't know snakes could speak English...?"

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER AND EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH THE FRANCHISE BELONGS TO J.K ROWLING. I REPEAT I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. BUT ANY OC'S IN THIS STORY BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: THIS WILL BE SLASH. THIS IS A HARRYMORT FANFICTION (HARRY/VOLDEMORT SLASH) SLYTHERIN!HARRY DARK!HARRY

THIS WILL BE M RATED LATER ON. Dumbledore/Hermione/Ron BASHING.

Info: The Dursley's abandoned Harry at an orphanage when he was 4 years old. Harry steals money when he goes to London to pay for books.

 

In an orphanage, on the outskirts of London, a boy could be seen, staring blankly at the park on the end of the road. Children – between the ages of 3 and 16 were running round laughing and playing, yet as the boy watched, he could only feel utter hatred toward them. You see, the other children from the orphanage always called him names: freak, weirdo, nerd, loner, liar...etc. The older ones even went as far as to beating him, kicking him about and stealing his meagre possessions. That's why the boy hated them. He wasn't stupid. He knew he was different, completely different than the others. He could do things, strange and wonderful things...

The boy had tousled obsidian hair, which contrasted completely with his alabaster complexion. He was rather scrawny, as a result of the malnourishment he had suffered at his relatives' hands several years ago, before he came to the orphanage. The only feature the boy liked of himself was the jagged, red scar on his forehead – that was in the shape of a lightning bolt. He had no idea how that came to be there, but he was glad it was as it gave him character, and he liked it.

The boy shifted off his rotting, wooden toy box – which actually contained no toys at all – and instead went to perch himself on his decrepit mattress, which took up the whole length of the room. He was about to pick up his book on astrophysics, when a deep, guttural voice sounded from his door. "Well, well if it isn't Harry Snotter himself!" Jake Grimshaw, casually lent against the door frame, smirking whilst his lackeys: Richard Davies and Kane Sanders laughed behind him.

Jake had made it his mission to make Harry's life a living hell since he arrived at the orphanage when he was 4. It started with teasing and the throwing of insults, but after Harry somehow turned Lacey Grimshaw's (Jake's sister) hair pink, they had taken to physically hurting him every time they happened to see him.

Harry, now aged 7, was filled with complete, unadulterated loathing for the other boy, who was the oldest boy at the orphanage - age 16, almost 17.

He had had enough.

Harry casually lifted his emerald eyes, which seemed to glow in the dim light of his room, to meet dull grey ones. "What's the matter Potter? You scared?" Jake teased, stepping further into the room, till he was towering over Harry completely. "Ha! Maybe if you beg, I won't use my knife today."

Harry stood, forcing Jake to take a step back, lest he wish to be nose to nose with him.

"No."

"What was that Potty?"

"I said, no."

"Oooooh" Jake cooed, crossing his bulky arms over his chest, "Big man here ain't he boys?" The other boys laughed at this, cheering on their leader. "Should we teach the kid a lesson?" Both boys shouted, "Yeah! Go on Jake!"

Jake lifted his fist, ready to smash it into Harry's face, when something strange happened...

Time seemed to stop for Harry, and he felt a tingling warmth reach his palms, which he outstretched in front of his face in protection. Then suddenly, red sparks shot out from his hands, hitting the boys square in the chest. Harry watched in sick fascination as the boys simultaneously dropped to the ground, screaming and began to writhe on the floor in pain. A smirk crept onto Harry's usually innocent face. This was the most complete Harry had ever felt in his life. Harry slowly lowered his hands, cutting off the sparks from his palms. The boys whimpered slightly, before cautiously getting to their feet. Jake moved away from Harry as quickly as possible, before swivelling and pointing at Harry with a shaking finger. "D..dem...demon! DEMON!" He screamed before racing out of the room, his lackeys close behind.

The other children left him alone after that incident, casting fearful glances his way during meal times and when ever they saw him near, they scurried away like mice hiding from a cat. Harry was just fine with that. It meant that he could do what he wanted, without getting told off as even the matron was afraid of him now.

On his 10th birthday, Harry went to the wood, which was a 30 minute walk away from the orphanage. He wanted time to think. He sat down against a willow tree, situated deep within the woodland when he heard a female voice by his side. "Ssstupid human blocking my sssunlight! I'll bite him!" Harry's looked around himself, yet he saw no one there. "Who's there?" Harry queried out into the open air. A startled gasp followed this reply.

"A ssspeaker?"

When Harry still couldn't identify where the voice was coming from, he heard:

"Down here boy!"

Wide emerald eyes met slitted yellow ones.

"I didn't know that snakes could speak English...?" Harry replied with a question, gazing down at the 6 foot, reticulated python which lifted its head, watching Harry curiously.

"Don't be foolisssh boy! You are sspeaking parsseltongue!"

"What? I'm sspeaking a different language? But I didn't even realisse..." Harry trailed off, suddenly taking note of the slight hiss on his words.

"My masster alsso iss a sspeaker. How I misss masster..."

"Who iss your masster, if you don't mind me assking of coursse?"

"My masster iss a great and powerful man. Very powerful..."

"Sso, where iss your masster now?"

The snake's voice turned slightly melancholy at this. "I don't know." Its head dropped in sadness, "I have not sseen him for yearsss now..."

"I'm ssorry. I didn't mean to make you upsset..." Harry said feeling guilty.

"Oh don't be ssilly sspeaker."

"Harry." The snake cocked its head curiously, "My name iss Harry." As Harry said this, he outstretched his right palm, green sparks shot out and shot at a mouse that tried to run from the sight of the snake. The snake's eyes slightly widened at this.

"Your lassst name? What isss it?"

"Oh ermm, Potter. Harry Potter."

The snake made a slight chuckling sound at this.

"How very curiouss... Well Harry Potter, my name iss Nagini."

"Hello Nagini." Harry greeted, a smile gracing his face as he reached down to stoke Nagini's jade scales. Nagini hissed in content.

"Well, it hass been nice to meet you Harry Potter. I sshall tell my masster of you when I sssee him next." Nagini finished before slithering toward the mice, gulping it down in one and then making her way through the forest. Harry shook his head in disbelief at what had just occurred. He knew he was different, and he was happy about it.

A year after this, Harry lay in his bed, head propped up against the wall, as he read a book of psychology. He was very intelligent. At the age of 11 he could easily pass his A levels with flying colours. Harry was bored in all his classes, seen as though he knew all the material, having read it all. He could play the violin, the piano, the cello, the flute, the double bass, the harp and could sing like and angel...


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER AND EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH THE FRANCHISE BELONGS TO J.K ROWLING. I REPEAT I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. BUT ANY OC'S IN THIS STORY BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: THIS WILL BE SLASH. THIS IS A HARRYMORT FANFICTION (HARRY/VOLDEMORT SLASH) SLYTHERIN!HARRY DARK!HARRY

THIS WILL BE M RATED LATER ON. Dumbledore/Hermione/Ron BASHING.

All the teachers thought he was odd. He never interacted with any of the other children, always confined in the school library reading books he'd brought in as he knew all of the material contained in the school. Harry had always been like that though. Even in his first year, he was reading books aimed at 11 year olds. That's one of the reasons the Dursleys abandoned him. They were not happy with Harry achieving higher grades than their own 'Duddykins'. Sure the Dursleys hated Harry already because of his freakishness and they thought he was a waste of space, but they were afraid that the freak old man in his bright flowing robes would come again and use that stick of his, which was something they DID NOT want. They wanted to test how far they could go. Vernon only shouted at Harry in the beginning. Then Vernon started trying to shake sense into the boy – for Harry to realise that he was a freak. When there was still no sign of the old man, Vernon started taking his rage out on Harry, by hitting and kicking him after he lost his job. When the old man still didn't show, they decided to have off with him, and abandoned him in an alley somewhere near London in a black bin bag, bloodied and beaten. It was some days later when the bin men came to pick up the garbage that Harry was found by an elderly fellow, who had landed the job a month earlier. The man shocked and horrified when he found the near dead body of a 4 year old boy in a bag, and quickly rang an ambulance when he found that he was barely breathing.

When the hospital contacted the Dursleys, they denied even knowing of a boy named Harry Potter and so Harry was placed in Wool's Orphanage.

Harry's concentration was broken when a knock sounded from his door. He lay his book down upon his bed, before facing the door and shouting, "Enter!" Just then, an old man with long, white, wiry hair and a beard to match poked his head round the door, before stepping fully into the room. Harry took in the man's appearance with a slight feel of apprehension. You see, this old man was wearing luminous yellow robes, with black bumblebees stitched onto its entirety. Oh lord. A broad smile crossed the man's face and his blue eyes seemed to twinkle behind his spectacles.

"Harry" the man welcomed warmly, as if he knew him, "My boy...Oh how long it has been..."

"Not to sound rude sir, but who exactly are you?" Harry queried, wondering if this man had just walked out of a mental asylum.

"Oh worries my dear boy! I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yes Harry, you are a wizard and not just any normal wizard at that."

Harry tried not to lose composure, but he couldn't help a small gasp escaping his lips. Many thoughts swam through his mind at that moment.

This guy is seriously insane... Wizard? How can a wizard be normal? Really, I'm a wizard? But I suppose it makes sense in a way. How else could I explain the things that I can do?

"I suppose that would make sense." Harry replied in a neutral tone, "Yet, what do you mean when you say I am no normal wizard?"

"Ah yes... Do you mind if I sit?" Dumbledore asked, indicating with his hand to the end of Harry's bed.

"Of course." Harry replied rather coldly, whilst shifting slightly away from Dumbledore as he sat.

"Well my boy, you are famous in our world! You defeated a very dark, and powerful wizard as a baby. Why you were only a year old! An extraordinary magical feat!"

Harry took in those words, with a slight frown that grew as Dumbledore went on.

"It sounds a little unbelievable to me. I mean, how could a mere, one year old baby vanquish a very powerful wizard? Is that even possible?"

"Why of course it is possible dear boy! You're living proof of that." Dumbledore replied, twinkle in his eye slightly dulling.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room after that, both not knowing what to say to the other. Dumbledore finally broke the silence, "Anyway, I am here to invite you to our school. You have had a place ever since you were born."

"What sort of a school is Hogwarts? I know it is for Witchcraft and Wizardry, but is it a day school, boarding school...what?"

"Hogwarts is a boarding school. You'll have to come back to the orphanage at summer, as it is school policy to not let children stay at this time."

Harry pondered this for a moment. I knew I was different. It will also mean more things to learn... But how will I get the materials I need for a new school? How will I afford a new uniform?

"Sir, I would like to accept your invitation, yet I do not know if I will be able to afford the materials necessary for a new school, not to mention an entirely new uniform."

"Ah, there is no worry my boy! You have already been assigned a trust fund at Gringotts – The Wizard Bank, which you will be able to access throughout your school life to purchase everything you need."

Harry again waited another moment before replying. It was something he had learnt to do early on in his life because if he ever appeared to be eager about anything, it was normally snatched from him, so by hesitating to reply, he looked as if he was actually considering not going.

"Okay. I accept your invitation."

Dumbledore clapped his hands together, beaming once again.

"Excellent my boy! School begins on the first of September. You must take the Hogwarts Express to get to the school. It leaves from platform nine and three quarters at Kings Cross Station at exactly 11 o'clock. Of course a teacher will accompany you."

"Oh that is quite alright sir." Harry replied without even a moment's hesitation, "I do not need a teacher to show me the way. I am quite capable of travelling to Kings Cross Station on my own."

Dumbledore frowned at this but after seeing at Harry's determined face he sighed;

"Alright Harry. I will allow it just this once, only because I know that you are capable. Well, here is your equipment list." Dumbledore said, pulling out a rolled piece of parchment from within his robes, "I shall accompany you to Diagon Alley now if you wish."

Again without wasting a moment, Harry replied; "If it is alright with you sir, I wish to make the journey alone. I would prefer all the solitude I can get before I go to school."

Harry caught notice of Dumbledore's deep frown, so he added

"If that is alright with you of course sir..."

Dumbledore looked back at Harry, placing a rather fake smile on his face, "That is fine my boy. Here, I shall write some directions down for you." At this, Dumbledore conjured a quill and set about writing directions.

After a few minutes of Dumbledore writing and Harry awkwardly sitting silently, deliberating whether or not he should continue with his book, when Dumbledore vanished the quill and handed the parchment to Harry.

"There you go my boy: directions to the Leaky Cauldron. When you get there, just ask for Tom and he'll show you where you need to go." Dumbledore smiled up at Harry, who intern plastered a very convincing, fake smile onto his face.

"Thank you so much sir!" Harry replied eagerly, taking on the rule of the enthusiastic, lonely boy who has just found his place in the world.

Dumbledore beamed at Harry, eyes twinkling madly.

"I'm afraid I must be off now my boy. Got a few errands to run."

Dumbledore stood, and Harry mirrored this. Dumbledore then stretched out his hand for Harry to shake.

"It has been a pleasure meeting you sir." Harry replied, fake smile still in place as he took the outstretched hand in his own and shook with much enthusiasm.

Dumbledore gave Harry another wide smile, before finally stepping out the door and down to the Matron's office.

Harry just sat there for a while, thinking back on what had just occurred. It was quite surreal to Harry and he allowed a satisfied smirk to grace his face. He was a wizard and was supposed to be some sort of saviour. Harry chuckled softly to himself. They better watch out because I am not the saviour they think me to be!


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER AND EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH THE FRANCHISE BELONGS TO J.K ROWLING. I REPEAT I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. BUT ANY OC'S IN THIS STORY BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: THIS WILL BE SLASH. THIS IS A HARRYMORT FANFICTION (HARRY/VOLDEMORT SLASH) SLYTHERIN!HARRY DARK!HARRY

THIS WILL BE M RATED LATER ON. Dumbledore/Hermione/Ron BASHING.

The day Harry had decided to buy his things arrived. He had dressed in his best clothes for the day; which consisted of a pair of too short jeans, a grey t- shirt, a baggy, black leather jacket (which he had stole from a man the other day) and a pair of broken, muddied Nike trainers. Harry had been following the some what vague directions for over half an hour on foot, before he arrived at the street where the Leaky Cauldron was supposed to be situated. He walked down Charing Cross Road until he spotted a dingy looking door, which was apparently the entrance to the pub (according to Dumbledore's directions and diagram). He entered the pub, not knowing what to expect from the first magical destination he would visit. To say he was disappointed would be a huge understatement. The interior was exactly same as any other pub, there was nothing special about it. He confidently walked up to the bar and waited for Tom – the bar keeper – to appear. After several minutes of him not appearing, Harry was growing quite irritated. He was just about to call Tom when said man walked through the back doors, wiping the sweat off his brow. The man looked to be in his fifties. He had not one hair upon his head, and as he walked under the dusty chandelier, his head glistened under the light. "Blimey! Them crates o' butterbeer get 'eavier each blinkin' day they do!" Tom complained to no one in particular, waving his hands about, whilst the people in ear shot laughed at him.

Harry was confused by something though, and voiced this,

"Excuse me, sir. I do not mean to appear rude, but why did you not just use magic? Is there not a spell that can be used to levitate items?"

Tom's large brown eyes blinked dumbly, before he looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. Harry was not impressed, and it showed upon his face. He had always known he was a little short for his age... okay a lot short for his age, but honestly, the guy was so tall he should be able to see over his own damn bar!

Harry coughed loudly to gain Tom's attention. It had the desired affect when the man stepped out of the bar and finally caught sight of Harry's small frame.

"Oh! I'm sorry lad! Coul'nt see ya over me bar!" Tom exclaimed, using more not needed hand gestures, which slightly annoyed Harry.

He masked his true emotions, plastering a sheepish look on his face.

"Well me lad. What you doin' 'ere? Needing to be in Diagon ey?" Tom asked, completely forgetting about the question Harry had asked previously. It did not escape Harry's notice, yet he decided that it was not an important matter.

"Yes sir. I was told that you could show me to the entrance?" Harry answered with a question.

"You come to the right place me lad! I'll be showing you out there now if you'd like?"

"If it is not too much trouble."

"Of course it aint! Come on 'nd follow Tom!"

With that, Tom set off toward the back of the pub with Harry closely following. They came to a set of doors, stepped through and were faced with a brick wall. Harry was slightly confused, yet he didn't have time to question Tom as the bricks seemed to move of there own accord. Harry stared in awe, yet he did not let that show on his face, which remained as cool and stoic as always.

He had trained himself never to wear his emotions upon his face in his early years. When Vernon (Harry's whale of an uncle) used to beat him, he had always cried, well at the start he did. He soon realised that crying would only result in another beating, and so he masked his emotions.

Anything was better than the pain.

Harry stepped through the passage and into the alley, which was bustling with wizards and witches alike. Some even sported pointy hats, clearly trying to live up to their stereotype.

Harry didn't really know where he was supposed to be going: Dumbledore having only told him in what general direction the stores were to be located. He started to head to the north of the alley.

Harry knew he needed to visit Gringotts first. It was common sense that if he was going to be shopping he would need money.

He had just squeezed through a particularly dense party (the only good thing about his shortness – being able to manoeuvre through tight spaces) when he first sighted the immense, white building that stood at the intersection of Diagon and Knockturn Alley, towering over all the other buildings. By the vague description of Gringotts from Dumbedore: big and white, Harry assumed this was the place and this was confirmed by the plaque above the door, stating that it was 'Gringotts Bank'.

Harry made his way up to the doors and was slightly disappointed by the pieces of rotting wood. Yet the interior definitely made up for this. Harry had never in his life bore witness to such grandeur! The floors were that of a glistening white marble, with walls to match. Individual booths, made of the finest oak, were aligned down the length of the room, with one teller to each booth. Harry almost let out a startled gasp when he saw that the people at the booths were in fact, not people.

Well, Harry did not know that for certain, but he knew that these creatures' wide, pointed ears and entirely black eyes were not characteristics normally associated with humans.

Harry walked to the teller closest to him to his right. He came to a halt a few feet away from the booth and looked up, eyes locking with that of the creature who seemed to be sneering down at him.

"I wish to access my vault." Harry said, voice confident and unwavering.

The creature seemed rather startled by its failed intimidation technique.

"Do you have your key?"

Harry's brow furrowed at this. He had not been aware that he would require a key and Dumbledore had failed to mention it also.

"I was not aware that I would need a key to access my vault."

The creature tapped its fingers on the desk as it thought.

"There are many ways to access ones' vault. The quickest way is to take a drop of your blood and let it fall upon a roll of enchanted parchment, which will then reveal your true identity and the vaults you have access to."

Harry agreed to this method and allowed the creature to guide him to another, larger booth at the back of the room. The creature laid the parchment out slat upon the wooden desk and took a plain silver dagger from the desk's central drawer. It gave the knife to Harry, who upon receiving the dagger, proceeded immediately to slice his left hand open in one swift motion. The cut did not hurt at all to Harry, as he had endured much worse at his Uncle's hands. He then balled his hand into a fist and watched as one rivulet of blood dropped onto the parchment. The effect was instantaneous. Words began to form and when the process was deemed complete by the creature, it picked it up and read aloud

Harry Potter son of James Potter and Lily née Evans

Vaults

Hogwarts Trust Fund: 5,000 Galleons

Potter Vault: 50,000,000 Galleons 200,000 Sickles 300,000 Knuts

'Boy Who Lived' Vault: 500,000 Galleons

Harry stared at the large figures, a small smirk gracing his lips. Never had he had this much money before. Harry had been used to stealing money, and to have this much money at his disposal and knowing it actually belonged to him made Harry feel rather pleased.

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when the creature coughed lightly.

"Please remember that your family vault can only be accessed when you come into your magical maturity. Also, several things have been brought to the goblins' attention that we think you should be made aware of."

Harry knew that whatever this was, it spelled trouble, but he was happy that he finally knew what kind of creature it was.

The goblin sifted through several rolls of parchment, which were scattered across the desk, before pulling out one, with a red ribbon tied around it.

"It is customary for the owner of the vaults to receive a statement of all withdrawals each time they visit the bank." The goblin then handed the roll to Harry, who placed it in his coat pocket.

"The only person, other than yourself, who has access to your vault is your magical guardian, who's name is stated on that parchment I just gave you. Now, would you like to me to show you to your trust fund vault, which I believe is vault number 614."

Harry inclined his head at this, and followed the Goblin, who took him to his vault. He withdrew 1,000 galleons from the vault. He knew it was a bit much, but he needed a whole new wardrobe on top of the list of materials he required for school. The goblin (who had introduced himself as Griphook on the journey down to his vault) suggested that Harry purchase a "G CARD" which, he was told, acted like a muggle debit card, and could be used in all magical stores, restaurants, pubs and basically, everywhere in the entire wizarding world. Harry, having never come across the term "muggle" before asked Griphook about this, who replied simply with,

"A muggle is a non magical human."

Harry then proceeded to purchase a G CARD which magically transferred the money from his trust fund, and that which he had withdrew, onto his card.

After saying farewell to Griphook, he made his way through the bank, back into Diagon Alley to purchase the rest of his things.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER AND EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH THE FRANCHISE BELONGS TO J.K ROWLING. I REPEAT I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. BUT ANY OC'S IN THIS STORY BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: THIS WILL BE SLASH. THIS IS A HARRYMORT FANFICTION (HARRY/VOLDEMORT SLASH) SLYTHERIN!HARRY DARK!HARRY

THIS WILL BE M RATED LATER ON. Dumbledore/Hermione/Ron BASHING.

The first thing Harry wanted to do was visit Madame Malkin's Robe Wear; figuring that if he was going to meet anyone, he needed high quality clothes to make a good impression. The building itself looked rather small from the outside, yet when he stepped through the white doors, he found that he was mistaken. It was actually quite spacious.

It must be magically expanded.

There were racks upon racks of clothes; ranging from slacks – skinny jeans, robes – blazers.

Harry strolled over to a particular section, which contained robes of emerald, and black shades.

He spent at least an hour picking articles of clothing from the rack and when he was finally ready to try them all on, the pile was taller than himself!

Harry admired himself in the mirror, liking this look on him. He had changed into an emerald, long sleeved poet shirt, a pair of black leather slacks, with black boots to match, and a black robe with a dark green trim, which reached down to the floor. He looked rather dashing, if he did say so himself.

It was as he was admiring his new look, when two other males entered the changing room. They both had the same white – blonde hair (yet the eldest male's was much longer than the younger's), grey eyes and pale, pointed faces.

"Father," The youngest man whined, "Why did we not just owl them my requirements? I hate shopping for clothes!"

"Malfoy's do not whine Draco!" The elder reprimanded, almost dragging the boy over to where he could try on his clothes. It was then that he noticed Harry, who was watching them through the mirror. It appeared his son had too.

"I have never seen you before. Are you going to Hogwarts too?" The young boy asked, his eyes bright, and a smile on his face at the idea of gaining a new friend.

Harry stepped away from the mirror and turned to face the newcomers.

"Yes, I am."

The boy's smile grew, and he practically bounced over to Harry, which made his father grimace.

"Great! I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy!" With that the boy outstretched his hand in a flash.

Harry was curious to see the reaction on both the men's faces when he revealed who he was. He clasped the offered hand and said:

"Hello Draco Malfoy. My name is Harry Potter, I am sure you have heard of me."

Draco's jaw literally dropped in astonishment. Even the older male could not help his own loud gasp at this revelation, although not for the same reasons as his son. He was thinking about how he could use this opportunity to try and aid his Lord. Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard on the globe, that was. The majority of people believed that Harry Potter had completely vanquished the Dark Lord, yet the man knew that it was but a rumour, fabricated by the meddling old fool, Albus Dumbledore to sway the public over to the light and to eradicate all the dark. No. He knew his Lord was alive, and he planned to help in any way he could to locate, and aid him.

"Are you joking? This is absolutely AMAZING!" Draco said enthusiastically, whilst beaming up at Harry.

The older male took this moment to step forward and offer his hand to Harry.

"Lucius Malfoy. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Potter."

Harry grasped the hand.

"No, the pleasure is all mine I can assure you Mister Malfoy."

Lucius' eyebrow raised at this. He had not expected the Potter boy to be this polite. Lucius dropped his hand, and took a step back, allowing his son, who had been staring, unashamedly at Harry in wonder, to speak to Harry once again.

"So, you're going to Hogwarts..?"

When Harry nodded his head in affirmation, Draco continued.

"Great! This is going to be so much fun! You can meet all my friends and everything! We can be in Slytherin together! We can even sit on the Hogwarts Express together if you want. Do you want to?" Draco finished, almost bouncing in excitement that he may have THE Harry Potter as a friend.

Harry shook his head in amusement at the boy's antics, letting a small smile spread across his face.

"I would like that very much Draco."

Draco's smile grew to whole new levels at this and he looked like he was going to cry with joy. Before he could, Harry spoke up again.

"It is to my knowledge, that the Wizarding World knows me to be their saviour."

He spat the word out as if it were vermin. Lucius' eyebrows rose considerably at this. He had expected Potter to bask in his fame, yet here the boy was, considering his title to be scum.

"I plan to prove them all wrong. Dumbledore wants me to be their saviour, but I could not care less about what he wants."

Harry spat Dumbledore's name out again. He had decided he should be rather wary, and hateful towards Dumbledore after he read the transaction sheet as he walked to the Madame Malkin's. It had stated:

Previous Transactions

Vault number: 17 (Potter Family Vault)

Year 1980 : 586 Galleons

Year 1981 : 701 Galleons

Year 1982 : 1000 Galleons

Year 1987 : 10,000 Galleons

Year 1989 : 1000 Galleons

Transactions made this year:

Date: 18th January – 100 Galleons

4th March – 100 Galleons

1st August – 4000 Galleons

People whom have access to Potter Vault:

Harry Potter

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Harry had read this with a growing hatred. Dumbledore had been taking money out of his vault ever since he was born! He looked over the parchment again, and realised something. 4000 Galleons were withdrawn from his vault on 1st August. A sneer grew on his face and his eyes practically became slitted. That was today! Dumbledore had took money out of his vault today! Harry's anger rose to dangerous levels, and the wind seemed to pick up speed around him. Dumbledore could have been following him all this time! If that old man is following me, I'm going to fucking rip his head off! Harry had thought. He had had to calm himself before entering the store to prevent his anger from destroying it.

Lucius could feel the dark aura in the room, and shivered at its intensity. For one second, he dared to think that his Lord was there, in the room, yet he knew he was not. It seems our saviour is not so golden after all.

Lucius smirked at Harry, who had regained his composure.

"Yes. Of course the meddling old fool would want you to be so. You are the boy who lived after all, saviour of the wizarding world... "

Harry whipped around, eyes slitting again.

"I am NO ONE'S saviour!" He closed his eyes for a few moments, and when he opened them again, he was fully composed as if that whole episode had never even happened.

Lucius was watching Harry curiously throughout the whole ordeal, whilst Draco stared at him wide eyed, and slightly scared.

"I apologise Mr Malfoy. That was most unbecoming of me."

"It is quite alright Mr Potter."

"Please, call me Harry."

After hearing this, Lucius smirked softly and replied:

"Then Harry, you may call me Lucius."

Harry inclined his head at the man, and called for an assistant to levitate his garments to the till.

"Well Draco, Lucius I must be on my way now. There are many other places I must visit. It has been a pleasure to meet you both, and I look forward to seeing you again soon."

With that, Harry again shook their hands' and made his way to the till and purchased his clothes. He had spent a hefty, 300 galleons on his new wardrobe. For an extra 100 galleons, he made all his clothes self expanding; meaning that they would extend as he grew, so he would never grow out of his clothes.

Harry then travelled to the apothecary - to buy all his potions ingredients, Flourish and Blotts – to buy all his school books, some books on the wizarding world's history, etiquette, magical creatures and famous wizards. Then he went to Potage's Cauldron shop to, not surprisingly, buy a cauldron – a collapsible, standard pewter cauldron in fact and then he went to the stationary store... to purchase stationary. Harry then bought a pygmy owl, not that he needed one of course, but it was a requirement on his school shopping list and he may need to send letters of correspondence to people at some point. He told the owl to head back to the orphanage and wait in his room, as Harry knew he had left the window open. He then visited a store that specialised in trunks. Harry bought a black, weightless one, with green gems on the handle, a built in library and a password lock, which was "Darkness" in parseltongue. The trunk even had the ability to be shrunk down to the size of Harry's palm. He placed the owl treats, food and everything else he had already bought into his trunk, before shrinking it and slipping it into his robe pocket along with his G-CARD.

The only thing he needed for school now was a wand, so he headed over to Olivander's Wand Shop. As Harry stood in the darkly lit room, his eyes scanned over the stacks upon stacks of small, rectangular boxes, which he assumed contained wands. Just then, an elderly man, with shoulder length grey hair and brown eyes appeared from seemingly nowhere, carrying a quill in his hand.

"Mr Potter, I have been expecting you."

The man then walked towards the counter and set his quill upon it. He then looked Harry in the eye, and shook his head slowly.

"My my, how our world has been fooled. You are not the person we thought you were; are you?"

Harry tilted his head slightly at this, then returned to his original stance.

"I have come to purchase my wand, not to share with you my life story," Harry replied coldly.

"Yes yes of course. Now... where to start?"

With that, the man started tittering about, selecting several boxes from the shelves and laying them out upon the counter. He removed one and handed it to Harry, telling him to test it out and give it a wave. When the result was negative, Harry tried another, and another...and another.

After trying out twenty wands, and all the results coming back negative, the man murmured:

"Hmm I wonder..."

With that, he selected a black box from the top shelf and set down upon the desk.

When Harry grasped this wand, gold sparks shot out from it for a moment, but then stopped suddenly. Olivander frowned at this.

"It seems, Mr Potter that the wood is not compatible with your magical core, yet the rest of the wand is... I could extract the other components of this wand and set them into another wood for you if you wish, but it will cost you an extra 20 galleons..."

Harry accepted the man's offer and was told to wait where he was for a few minutes.

After seven minutes of waiting, Olivander finally appeared, carrying another wand in his hand. This wand was white, with green, vine like engravings carved on the side and a handle, styled in the shape of a crescent moon. Harry thought it looked quite beautiful.

When Olivander handed the wand to Harry this time, the effects were instantaneous. Silver and gold sparks shot out from the end of the wand, and Harry began to emanate a silver glow. Harry felt more complete than he had ever felt in his life. It was as if a piece of his very being had been missing for his entire life, and now he had found it. It took several minutes for the light to finally dim, and Harry reopened his eyes – having not even noticed that they were closed before now.

"I..Impossible..." Olivander stuttered, looking horrified at the effect the wand had on Harry.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, whilst tracing the vines on his wand with his index finger.

"You share the same wood and wand core with another. This is not terribly uncommon, but the pheonix, whose tail feather resides in your wand gave only one other feather than yours. You have, basically the identical wand to..to.."

"To whom?"

"The Dark Lord..." Olivander whispered.

Harry's head snapped up at hearing this.

He had the identical wand to the Dark Lord. The most powerful wizard the world has ever seen.

Harry couldn't help it. He grinned madly at the prospect, and Olivander watched him in horror.

After a moment, Harry composed himself, and removed his G-CARD from his robes' pocket. He paid Olivander the sum of 27 galleons before leaving the shop, and Olivander who stood, shell shocked, in the same place for many minutes after he had left.

Harry had decided earlier that Dumbledore couldn't have been following him, or else he would have sensed him, so he made his way Knockturn Alley.

He had heard that Knockturn Alley sold dark things, and he was curious to discover what was there. There were several people in the alley, most wearing black and looking a little worse for wear. Harry entered a dingy looking shop called: Borgin and Burke's. The inside was lit only by a few candles, which lined the walls. He was immediately attracted to the books section and went about browsing the dusty shelves. He had picked out ten thick tomes which sounded interesting to Harry; one of which was titled 'Parselmagic by S.S'. Harry guessed that this was associated with parseltongue, and when he flicked to the first page, he found he was correct when he read 'Parselmagic is the art of forming a spell using parseltongue.'

He took these books up to the counter and placed them on it. The man at the counter; who had greasy, slicked back, mousy hair and dark circles under his dull, blue eyes, made a slight humming sound as he examined the books.

"This is gonna cost yer a bit lad. 'Specially that book with them squiggles on it. Only one of its kind I 'eard."

Harry looked at the man in confusion, but when he looked at the book the man was gesturing to more closely, he could see that it was not in fact written in English. Must be the written form of parseltongue.

"How much will this be costing?" Harry queried rather coldly, reaching for his G-CARD again.

"It'll be 130 galleons for the lot."

Harry handed over his G-CARD and when the purchase had been made, he took out his trunk, enlarged it and placed the books into the library.

By that time, it was 4:30pm, so he had another hour and a half before he needed to be back at the orphanage, so he decided to browse the other stores on Knockturn Alley.

Harry ended up visiting a dark hairdressing salon. He had his black locks magically extended so that it reached his mid back, and he tied it in an emerald band that matched his shirt. After that, he went to an exotic pet store, which was situated to the south of the alley. Harry was casually browsing through the aisle that contained tarantulas, when he heard a high pitched, female voice.

"Ughhhhh. Sstupid humanss! Locking me in thiss dark placce with no ssunlight! It iss ssoo boring in here! Boring, boring, boring..."

Harry looked around for the source of the voice, that sounded like it belonged to a female teenager, and found that it actually was the voice of a very small snake. Harry walked over to the glass tank it was being kept in.

"Oh great. Another ssstupid human! Pleasse will you just GO AWAY!"

Harry chuckled at the snake's indignation.

"Why? I may wissh to purchasse you. Would you not like that?"

The snakes eyes seemed to widen at this.

"A ssspeaker? Here in thisss store? Yesss, I would like that verry much. Pleasse! I haven't glimpssed sssunlight in...forever!"

Harry reached into the tank, and picked up the snake. He knew it was not on his shopping list, but he hadn't been told that he could not bring one, so he figured that meant he was allowed.

He began walking back towards the counter at the front of the store, where the grey haired shop clerk was writing on parchment with a poorly designed quill.

"Do you have a name sssnake?"

"No, I do not. I have alwaysss been addressssed asss 'whiner' by the other ssnakess."

Harry chuckled softly again.

"Yess... Well, can I name you?"

"Hmm... I ssupposse you can, you are getting me out of thisss dump after all."

Harry pondered on what to name the snake for a moment.

"How do you feel about the name Querella?"

"Querella..." The snake tested, "Yess. That iss acceptable."

"It meansss to complain in Latin."

Querella hissed in annoyance at this, and Harry had to hold another chuckle from escaping his lips.

Querella slithered up his arm and rested itself upon Harry's shoulder.

The man at the counter saw the boy approaching and smiled, but when he saw the snake on his shoulder, his eyes bulged from their sockets.

"I would like to purchase this snake please."

The man looked between the snake and Harry a few times in horror before replying;

"Do you know that's a baby taipan your holding?"

"What of it?"

"They are one of the most venomous snakes in the entire world! Just one bite could kill you in less than an hour!"

Harry glanced down at Querella, who then swore she would never attack anyone, unless she was in danger, Harry was in danger or if Harry commanded her to do so. Harry nodded and looked back at the owner.

"What is the cost I must pay?"

The owner looked bewildered before replying:

"Just 30 galleons."

Harry paid the amount and walked out of the store, with Querella hissing thanks to him for getting her out of the horrid store.

The time was now 5:00pm, so Harry began walking back to the orphanage, trunk in his pocket, wand in his pocket and Querella, who had curled around his wrist so that she was kept out of sight.


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER AND EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH THE FRANCHISE BELONGS TO J.K ROWLING. I REPEAT I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. BUT ANY OC'S IN THIS STORY BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: THIS WILL BE SLASH. THIS IS A HARRYMORT FANFICTION (HARRY/VOLDEMORT SLASH) SLYTHERIN!HARRY DARK!HARRY

THIS WILL BE M RATED LATER ON. Dumbledore/Hermione/Ron BASHING.

To say that the matron, and other children were surprised by Harry's new look would be a complete understatement. They had expected to see the same shabby looking boy with the horribly large glasses, not this stylishly dressed young man, with the most beautiful, emerald green eyes anyone had ever seen.

Harry had decided to get his eye sight magically repaired when he was out in Knockturn Alley. He had it done for only 20 galleons and he was rather pleased with the outcome.

No one at the orphanage dared to say a word of it, fearing that the 'freak' would do something to them.

Harry spent the rest of the month reading the books he had purchased. He thought them all to be interesting, especially the book on parselmagic, occlumency and legillemency. Harry also obtained a new obsession. He had been reading the book he had bought on Famous Wizards, when he came across him. Nothing was really known about him, no one even knew his real name, and Harry found himself wanting to solve the mystery that was Lord Voldemort.

He was supposed to hate him, seen as though he had killed his parents and even tried to kill him, but he understood the Dark Lord's motives. If Harry had been in the same position, he would have done the same thing. If he had discovered that two of the most powerful beings on the opposing side were having a child, who would be brought up to despise him, and would be even more powerful than his parents were; Harry would have taken them out. It was just common sense.

Harry and Querella grew closer to the point that Querella, or Ella for short, had demanded Harry take her everywhere he went...even to the bathroom. Harry had accepted this, even though he thought it was rather odd that the snake was so attached to him already. He brought this up once and Ella explained:

"It isss jusst part of the bonding processs. Sssnakes grow more attached to their massterss the more they are around them."

Harry had accepted this, and by doing so, he had made it possible for their bond to become permanent. Ella explained that now she was his bonded familiar, meaning he had to take her everywhere he went, or else she would die. Harry thought this was a good thing because now Dumbledore couldn't force him to give up Ella.

By 1st September, Harry had read all his books and had more knowledge on magical theory than most fourth years. Harry slicked his hair back, and clasped it in an emerald snake clip at the back. He dressed in a dark green, long sleeved shirt, leaving the top two buttons undone and black trousers, with matching leather boots. He packed his trunk with his belongings, whilst conversing with Ella, and then telling his owl – who he had named Strix (meaning owl in Latin) to fly to Hogwarts. He donned a plain black robe, before shrinking his trunk, and letting Ella curl up on his left arm. He then placed the trunk in his robe pocket.

Harry looked about the room with much distaste, before exiting his door and leaving the orphanage, until he was to go back next summer.

Harry had been to Kings Cross Station many times. It was filled with wealthy business men and so it was one of his number one destinations to pick pocket.

After walking for twenty seven minutes, Harry arrived at the station. He had never heard of a Platform 9 and ¾ before, and figured it must be magically hidden so that non – magical people won't see it. Harry was proven correct when he spotted a short, brown haired boy walking through the brick wall which stood between platforms nine and ten. Harry looked up at the large, white clock on the wall, which stated that it was 10:52am. Taking note that he only had eight minutes to board the train, he stepped through the wall. Almost instantaneously, he appeared through the other side, before a glossy, red steam train. Their were several students still on the platform, surrounded by family members, wishing them well. It was then that he spotted Lucius, who was levitating Draco's trunk onto the train. Harry approached them and greeted them.

"Lucius, Draco."

Lucius, who had seen Harry approach inclined his head to him and then continued on with what he was doing previously. Draco, however, had not noticed Harry approach and swivelled round, a beaming smile on his face.

"Harry! I like your new hair, it looks great on you!"

After a stern look from his father, Draco seemed to sober and he appeared to look impassive.

"It is good to see you Draco."

It was then that Lucius spoke up, having finished his task.

"Boys, you must be making your way onto the train now. You only have five minutes to find a compartment before the train sets off."

The boys both nodded in understanding.

"Bye father!" Draco replied enthusiastically, before leading Harry onto the train.

They walked to the far end of the train, and entered the final compartment, where a girl with short black hair, dull blue eyes and a pug like face, and a tanned boy, with a chiselled face and soft brown eyes sat. Upon hearing the door open, both pairs of eyes turned to see who had the audacity to enter their compartment. When they saw Draco, they relaxed back in their seats and the tanned boy greeted;

"Hi Draco! I've been waiting for you! I thought you were going to meet me on the platform, but then you weren't... oh who's that?" The boy enquired when he caught sight of the boy next to Draco.

Draco beamed at the other boy and gestured to Harry, who had entered the compartment and stood to Draco's right.

"Blaise, Pansy this is Harry Potter!"

Pansy's jaw dropped at this. Blaise was a little more composed, gasping faintly, before smirking.

"Oh my god! You're Harry Potter? THE Harry Potter! Right here in my compartment! Mum's going to be so jealous when she hears about this! She has a slight obsession with you. Yeah, I know kinda weird...yeah." Pansy exclaimed, eyes hungry with the idea of having such a famous person as her friend.

Draco then sat closest to the door, and Harry sat next to the window.

After introductions had been made and the train had set off, the other three chatted about their holidays whilst Harry gazed out of the window.

Halfway through the journey, Ella woke up and hissed up at Harry – who was still just looking out of the window blankly.

"It isss ssso dark in here! Isss it ssafe to come out now?"

Harry looked down to his arm, where he knew the snake was concealed.

"Yess I believe it isss ssafe now."

With this, Ella slithered out of her hiding place and down into Harry's lap. Pansy saw the movement in the corner of her eye, and full out screamed when she saw the poisonous snake on Harry's lap.

Alarmed, the other boys followed Pansy's pointing finger, and when they saw the snake, they simultaneously looked at each other and then to Harry.

"Harry, why is there a very poisonous snake on your lap?" Blaise asked nonchalantly, as if they were discussing the weather.

Harry casually looked over to them.

"This is Querella. She is my bonded familiar. Sssay hello Ella." Harry finished in parseltongue, and smirked at the awful, yet terrified looks that were thrown his way.

"Yyour a parselmouth?" Pansy stuttered out.

"I thought that was rather obvious, seen as though you just saw me conversing with my snake." Harry replied sarcastically, whilst stroking Ella's scales.

Conversation between the occupants of the compartment seemed to dwindle at this revelation, and Harry decided to not speak to Ella whilst in the presence of the children. He did not want to scare them away just yet after all.

An elderly woman came round to their compartment with a trolley full of sweets, asking if they wanted to buy anything. Blaise bought a chocolate frog and Draco bought a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Both Harry and Pansy did not purchase anything – Pansy because she was on a diet and Harry because he was not overly fond of sweets.

Conversation picked up again after that, but Harry decided to read Hogwarts a History instead, whilst Querella took another nap on his lap.

Another twenty minutes went by, before a female voice sounded from the intercom.

"You will be arriving at Hogsmeade in five minutes. Will all students don their school robes at this time. Thank you."

The boys weren't bothered about changing robes in the presence of one and other, but Pansy declared she needed her privacy and so left to go to the bathroom. The boys shrugged at this, and got into their robes.

When the train came to a stop several minutes later, the four of them got off the train. Harry, wanting to have a moment of solitude, disbanded from the group and stayed at the back of the congregation of first years. They were all then shown to a lake, where small boats were lay upon the shore.

"Four students to a boat!" A gruff, low male voice bellowed.

Harry waited until all the boats, apart from one, had been filled and stepped into it. By this point, all the other students, and the teacher who had been accompanying them, had already set off, so Harry had the boat all to himself. The boat set off of its own accord, and it was at that moment that Querella spoke out;

"Why do we have to usse boatss? I hate thesse thingsss!"

Harry chuckled softly, and patted the snake's head.

"We will be there sssoon Ella."

Harry looked up and spotted the constellation, Orion's Belt, in the night sky. He had never really been fond of astronomy, but he had learnt about it anyway. Knowledge is power after all...

Harry looked forward again and saw the magnificent, illuminated castle that was Hogwarts lay upon a steep cliff. It was rather beautiful and Harry could not help but gasp at the warm sensation that ran through his veins as he approached it. Magic.

When Harry's boat came to a stop at the shore, he stepped out of it, and went to follow the others who were a few seconds ahead of him. They were lead to an entry hall of sorts, and were made to wait before a pair of gold doors. It was here that Harry met back up with Draco, and they conversed for a few minutes on what house they wanted to be in.

"So, which house do you think you'll belong to Harry? I know I'm going to be a Slytherin. Both my parents were Slytherins."

"Hmm, I am not too sure Draco. I could belong to several houses."

Just then, a stern faced woman, with a pointed witches' hat upon her head, emerged from the corridor, and stood before the students.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. In a few moments, you will walk through these doors, into the Great Hall, where you will be sorted. The four Houses of Hogwarts are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin." She shot an accusing glance to Draco when she said that.

"Is it true? What everyone's been saying? Is Harry Potter here?" A short boy with messy, ginger hair called out loudly.

"What's it to you Weasel?" Draco sneered at the boy.

"You better shut it Malfoy!"

"Oooh I'm shaking in my boots!"

The boy turned red at that, and moved forward to punch Draco in the face. Suddenly, he was hauled up by his collar and smashed into the closest wall.

"You will never attempt to harm him again. Do you understand?" Harry asked coldly.

"Yyes I..I understand." The boy rasped out in fear.

Harry dropped the boy, who scrambled away as soon as he could. All the first years were staring at Harry in unmasked fear and he sneered.

"Yes, it is true. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. Hello everyone I'm Harry!" He exclaimed in mock cheer, before his face became stoic again.

The woman from before walked back in the entrance hall.

"We are ready for you now, follow me."

With that, the students turned away from Harry to follow the woman through the gold doors.

The hall was huge. Four large tables ran the length of the room, each table containing students of one particular house. Harry did not need to look up to see the bewitched ceiling. He had read all about it in his books and when he had, he was not very interested in it.

When all the first years had were securely in the room, the woman – who Harry now knew was called Professor McGonagall – called the first name.

"Hannah Abbott!"

The Sorting Hat was placed onto the girl's head and after two minutes of silence, it called out:

"Hufflepuff!" The hall erupted into applause and the girl then was shown over to her house table. This was the same case for every sorting, up until Harry was called up.

"Harry Potter!"

Murmurings broke out among the students, and McGonagall had to shout to silence them. Harry confidently walked up to the front of the hall, and sat upon the stool. McGonagall lowered the hat onto his head. The hat then spoke to Harry in his head.

"It seems Dumbledore has you all wrong doesn't he? Hmm... Well, there is not even a question of where to put you. SLYTHERIN!"

The hall was shocked into silence. Harry casually removed the hat from his head, set it upon the stool and walked towards the Slytherin table, where Draco and a few others were clapping.

He sat between Draco and Blaise, and watched the rest of the ceremony. Harry knew that Dumbledore was watching him with a deepening frown as he began to converse with Draco like they were the best of friends. He could also feel another pair of eyes on him. Harry looked up to the staff table, and found who was staring at him. A man, who appeared to be in his mid thirties, with a purple turban wrapped around his head locked eyes with Harry.

Harry felt a warm tingle, coming from his scar, and he lifted his hand up to caress it, hoping that this feeling would never end. As soon as it begun however, it stopped when the man glanced away from Harry to watch Dumbledore, who had just stood up.

"Hello! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! There are a few notices we would like you to be aware of. 1: The Forbidden Forest is just that – Forbidden, 2: The Third Floor Corridor, on the right hand side is out of bounds, for all those who do not wish to die a most painful death, and our very own Professor Quirrell is taking on the role of Defence Against the Dark Arts for his second year!"

With that, the man with the turban stood and bowed slightly, which made several students laugh.

He sat back down and again looked over at Harry, who was watching him curiously and again enjoying the pleasurable sensation in his scar.

Dumbledore then spoke up again:

"Let the feast begin!"

Just as this was declared, food of all kinds appeared on the tables. Harry selected a piece of bloody steak, a caesar salad and a glass of water. He ate his fill, without speaking to anyone.

After everyone had eaten, the house prefects escorted the first years to the dormitories. The Slytherin Prefect took the first year Slytherins down into the dungeons where their dorms were situated. They stopped before a black door, that contained the portrait of an elderly male, who had a short, black beard and a bald head.

"This is the common room door." The male prefect exclaimed, "The password to enter the common room is: communis cella. Do not forget it and do not tell this password to any of the other houses."

The Slytherins stepped into the common room. It was quite a spacious area, with a black marble floor, and green wall paper. To the left, there was a large, silver fireplace, and two black, leather arm chairs faced the fire. To the right, there was a chess board on a wooden table, with two wooden chairs on either side. There were also two sets of stairs – one on the right side of the room and one on the left.

"The stairs to the left lead to the boys' dorms and the stairs on the right lead to the girls. There will be a meeting at 7:00am tomorrow, where our head of house, Professor Snape will give you your time tables. Have a pleasant evening."

With that, the prefects left the room, and the first years were left to their own devices.

The majority of the boys (Draco and Blaise included) rushed up to the dorms to claim their beds. Harry was more reserved, simply waiting until all the others had gone up before he did so. Upon entering the dormitory, Harry spotted the only bed that had no been occupied – which was in a darkened corner, away from all the other beds and decided that this was ideal. He sat upon his bed and enlarged his trunk, before placing it on the floor. Just before he was going to unpack, the room went silent and Harry looked up. Everyone was staring at him in horror.

"Ddon't you know wwho's bed tthat was?" A boy, with sandy coloured hair breathed out in fright.

"What are you talking about?"

Draco took a step closer towards Harry.

"Harry...that bed...that bed was the Dark Lord's when he was at Hogwarts..."

Harry's eyes widened and a smirk grew on his face. This is... amazing! Harry composed himself.

"What of it?" Harry replied.

The rest of the boys left him alone after that, and he wasn't complaining about it either. He took his black, silk pyjamas out of his trunk and got changed into them in the bathroom. Harry then proceeded to brush his teeth, use the loo and feed Ella, who gulped the offered mouse down in one.

Harry got into bed. Ella curled herself up on the foot of the bed and the last thought Harry had ,before he drifted off into a fitful sleep, was: I wonder what tomorrow has in store. I cannot wait!


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER AND EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH THE FRANCHISE BELONGS TO J.K ROWLING. I REPEAT I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. BUT ANY OC'S IN THIS STORY BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: THIS WILL BE SLASH. THIS IS A HARRYMORT FANFICTION (HARRY/VOLDEMORT SLASH) SLYTHERIN!HARRY DARK!HARRY

THIS WILL BE M RATED LATER ON. Dumbledore/Hermione/Ron BASHING.

 

Harry was in a darkened office, only lit by one singular candle on the wall. He took in his surroundings. The walls were made of brick and no wallpaper was used to cover them. A desk could be seen at the back of the room, with an unoccupied chair behind it. There was a bookshelf to the left of the room, near the fireplace which bared no flame. Harry felt a shiver run down his spine, and he swivelled round, wand pointed in the air to see who was there. He came face to face with a mirror, but he could not see himself in it. Harry let out a gasp as he gazed into the glowing, crimson red eyes that stared back at him. The tingling in his scar was back full force, stronger than ever, and Harry let his eyes droop shut, surrendering to the pleasurable sensation that was running through his veins. A deep, sensual voice whispered into the darkness:

"Harry..."

Harry's eyes snapped open. He was slightly disappointed to realise that it had all been a dream. Those eyes...Harry could picture them clearly in his mind. They were the colour of rubies and Harry was completely mesmerised by them.

It had felt so real...I wish it would have been so...

Harry sighed and cast a quick tempus spell (which he had read about in one of his books). The time was 6:14am and the other boys had just started to wake up, most moaning about how they were up before the sun was out. Harry shook his head at their antics and went to take a shower.

After finishing up in the bathroom, he got dressed into his school robes and tied his hair back with a black band. By this time – 6:45am - all the boys were up, and running round, getting their own clothes on. Harry sat down on his bed, stroking Querella's scales as she slept, thinking about his dream.

Those eyes...they were so beautiful...

He was snapped out of his musings when Draco called him over, as it was time to head downstairs for the meeting.

When they entered the common room, a small congregation had formed in the centre of the room. Draco and the other boys excitedly joined the others, whilst Harry chose to remain to the very back of the group, close to the bottom of the staircase. After a few minutes of waiting, Harry started up a low conversation with Ella, who had perched herself upon his shoulder again. The common room door suddenly swung open, and a man with shoulder length, greasy black hair and a long crooked nose strode into the room. He towered over the children, sneering at their obvious fear.

"Welcome to Slytherin." The man greeted sarcastically.

"Here are your timetables."

With that the man flung the bundled pile of parchments onto the couch. He sneered at them again, just for good measure and began to walk towards the door. Before he left the room he spun round and bellowed:

"And if any of you turn up late to your Potions lessons, you will be punished accordingly."

The door slammed shut behind him, and the room fell into an awkward silence.

Blaise was the one to break it by asking Draco:

"Is that really your godfather?"

Draco turned to Blaise, with a beaming smile on his face.

"Yeah it is! Cool isn't he?"

When he noticed all the children shooting him bewildered looks at how un-Malfoyish he was acting, he straightened himself up and relaxed his face so that he appeared impassive.

"I mean, yes you are quite right Blaise. Sevvy... Err Professor Snape is my Godfather."

Harry watched in disgust as the slytherins pounced upon the pile and went tearing through it for the own timetables – like animals do when capture their prey. Harry shared this with Querella who completely agreed.

"Masster, I'm hungry. Can we go to the hall now?"

Harry glanced over to Querella, then back to the rabid children.

"I need my timetable, Ella..."

She then began to wail, and plead her master, saying she was going to die of starvation.

"Enough!" He sighed in exasperation, "Okay, we will go to breakfast now, but we will have to be quick about it, as we will need to return to the dormitories to collect my timetable after we have eaten."

Querella hissed her thanks, and so they went down to breakfast.

When they arrived at the Great Hall, they sat at the Slytherin table. Harry deliberately chose a spot in the unoccupied quarter of the table – which happened to be quite close to the head table – so that he did not have to socialise with anyone.

Harry enjoyed solitude. He had become so used to it from his days at the Dursleys' home and the Orphanage – where everyone was too afraid to utter a word to him after the incident with Jake.

Harry did not want to socialise with anyone. He just wanted to think about those red eyes. Harry was sure he had read something about a person having red eyes in one of his many books, but he could not remember whom that was written about.

Harry plated himself a croissant, muesli and an orange and Querella some...ham. When Querella demanded that she wanted to try some ham, Harry had thought she was saying it jokingly, and had raised an eyebrow at her. When she had stated that she was deadly serious, Harry had given her a piece to try, and after receiving a positive response of:

"Massster thiss is deliciousss! Much better than ratss!"

Harry handed her more and went back to eating his own meal.

He was just about to take a sip from his glass of milk, when he felt the sensation in his scar, which he loved, again. Harry looked up to the head table, and saw Professor Quirrell staring at him intensely, as if he were searching for something... Harry lost himself to the warmth that was pulsating from his scar, and spreading through his veins. The feeling was suddenly lost when his DADA Professor turned away. Harry could not help but feel disappointed at this, but shook his head, drank the rest of his milk, told Querella they had to go back to the Common Room and went on his way, when Ella was safely on his shoulder.

Five minutes later, they arrived at the Common Room door and Harry said the password: "communis cella" before entering.

What he saw upon entering made Harry's anger boil. There, on the couch was his timetable, well, a piece of it. There were other pieces of paper scattered around the room, which he could only assume was the rest of his timetable.

"Sssomeone hass had the audaccity to tear apart my timetable!" Harry shouted in parseltongue, feeling no need to hide his emotions in front of his familiar.

"Masster! You musst calm yoursself before you break ssomething!"

Harry closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, allowing himself to calm. He reopened them again after a few moments, feeling considerably calmer and then proceeded to walk across the room and up the stairs to the dormitory.

"Masster, what are you doing?" Ella queried when they entered the dormitory.

"I own a book that containss a sspell that ssummonss objectss to you and a sspell that repairss broken thingss."

Harry rummaged through his trunk's library and selected a book from it. He turned to the contents page and it stated that the two subjects he wished to read up on were on pages 247 and 394.

When he had found what he needed to, he headed back down the stairs. He pointed his wand at the scrap of paper on the couch and muttered:

"Accio Harry Potter's timetable."

In a flash, the pieces of paper that had been all over room, zoomed towards the couch and landed in a pile.

"Reparo," Harry whispered.

The pieces of paper proceeded to lift into the air, and began smashing into each other, gluing themselves back together.

Whilst this was happening, Harry cast a quick tempus to check the time. It was now 8:50am, so he only had ten minutes to get to first class.

After another minute, his timetable had repaired itself. He looked over it.

Harry Potter – Timetable

Period 1

Period 2

Period 3

Period 4

Period 5

Period 6

Monday

Potions (S/H)

Charms (S/R)

H.O.M (S/H)

Trans-figuration (S/G)

Trans -

figuration (S/G)

DADA (S/G)

Tuesday

Flying Lesson (S only)

Herbology (S/R)

Charms (S/R)

Potions (S/H)

DADA (S/G)

DADA (S/G)

Wednesday

H.O.M (S/H)

Flying Lesson (S only)

Potions (S/H)

Potions (S/H)

H.O.M (S/H)

Astronomy

(12:00am)

Thursday

Potions (S/H)

Charms (S/R)

Trans – figuration (S/G)

Trans – figuration (S/G)

DADA (S/G)

(S/R)

Friday

Charms (S/H)

DADA (S/G)

Charms (S/H)

Transiguration (S/G)

Herbology (S/R)

Herbology (S/R)

Great. He now had only 8 minutes to get to Potions, and he had no idea where the classroom was. Harry only knew that it was somewhere in the dungeons. He collected his things and walked out of the common room door – Ella asleep on his shoulder. Harry wondered if that's all snakes did – sleep because that's all Ella seemed to do. Well, that and complain.

The dungeons were like a maze. Harry kept walking down darkly lit corridors, hoping to find himself at his classroom, yet he seemed to always come to a dead end. He checked through all the doors he past, finding some locked and many uninhabited.

By this point, Harry was already a whole five minutes late. He was just about to give up his search, when he heard Professor Snape's voice through a door to the left of the corridor he was presently occupying. Harry walked towards the door, with a slight feel of apprehension, knowing that the reception he was going to get from Snape at his late entrance was not going to be pleasant.

As per usual, he found his assumption was correct.

Harry had strode into the room, wearing no emotion what so ever on his face, and went to sit himself down next to Draco, who was looking at him as if to say:

"Ha! You're going to get killed!"

He sat down and splayed his things out on the desk. He was just about to open his potions book, when Snape pounced on him.

"Mister Potter. How gracious it is of you to show up to class. Why, I half expected the arrogant, self absorbed son of James Potter" Snape spat the name out, as if it were cursed, "not to show up to my class at all."

Emerald eyes met those of obsidian.

"I apologise most profusely sir. It was my intention to appear on time to your class, early in fact, yet circumstances could not allow this to occur."

Snape sneered at Harry.

"Yes, next you will tell me that it was somebody else's fault, no?"

Harry remained cool and composed, not letting his outrage towards Snape's complete disregard for him. It was as he said this that he felt a slight prodding feeling in his mind. Legillemency. Harry had to smirk as he watched Snape's eyes widen ever so slightly.

Yes, Harry was a master of occlumency. He had studied it for several weeks. Harry had meditated every day for a month and learnt to hide his memories from view. He had pictured his room at the orphanage, and hidden his thoughts, emotions and memories in the things he had within his bedroom. Harry hid his memories of being beaten under his bed, in his trunk and locked it, so only a parselmouth could open it. He had hidden his memories and feelings of being happy (which were very few) into his toy box, which had four padlocks on it. The other memories he had, he hid under his duvet and pillows. No one could access his mind if Harry did not want them to.

Snape shook himself out of his stupor and turned away abruptly, shouting out page numbers they needed to read and passages they needed to take notes on for the assignment that would be set at the end of the week.

When the lesson ended, Harry half expected Snape to keep him behind to discuss how an eleven year old boy, who for the past ten years of his life supposedly had no idea that magic existed, was a master occlumence, yet he let Harry go with the others, not even sparing Harry a glance.

Nothing very eventful happened after that, most lessons just being used as an introductory lesson, where the teacher explained what they would be learning throughout the course of the year. That was until Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry had entered the class, on his own, ten minutes early. Professor Quirrell was sat at his desk marking papers when Harry had strode in, and took a seat closest to his desk. Quirrell was taken aback. His eyes caught Harry's'.

Harry sucked in a breath. God he loved that feeling. Quirrell's eyes looked over Harry curiously at this response.

"Mr Ppotter, it ap..pears you are e..early." He stuttered out.

Harry reopened his eyes, not even being aware that he had closed them and replied coolly:

"I apologise sir. If that is a problem, I will take my leave."

"Of c..course it is not Mist..ter Potter."

Harry was quickly surrendering to the sensations running through his body. He pictured red eyes staring back at him instead of the dull brown ones belonging to Quirrell.

"How very interesting..."

Harry's eyes widened. That was the voice... from his dream. He had heard it. Was he going insane? No one else was in the room, other than Harry and Professor Quirrell and both of them had not uttered a word. Maybe its all just in my mind.

"Yes."

Harry had definitely heard that. Was someone in his mind?

"Yes. I am in your mind."

Harry took this in.

"You're in my mind? But how is that possible? I'm a master..."

"Occlumence yes." The voice finished for him, "Quite an impressive feat for one so young."

"Who are you?" Harry asked in his mind to the voice, wishing he could know its owner – the one with those beautiful, red eyes.

The voice chuckled.

"My my Harry. You will just have to figure that out yourself."

With that, the presence withdrew from his mind.

Harry spent all term trying to figure out who the person was.

It was the day before the Yule holidays, when Harry finally discovered who the individual with the red eyes was. He had been reading his book on Famous Wizards at the time. Harry had skipped to page 1222 – the page dedicated to the most powerful,dark wizard of all time – Lord Voldemort. He had read it all before, but he was just so intrigued by him. Harry's eyes widened in shock and disbelief when he read the first sentence of the fifth paragraph:

The most iconic feature of he-who-must-not-be-named were his eyes that were the colour of blood.

Harry could only think one thing as he read it.

Lord Voldemort was inside my mind...


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER AND EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH THE FRANCHISE BELONGS TO J.K ROWLING. I REPEAT I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. BUT ANY OC'S IN THIS STORY BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: THIS WILL BE SLASH. THIS IS A HARRYMORT FANFICTION (HARRY/VOLDEMORT SLASH) SLYTHERIN!HARRY DARK!HARRY

THIS WILL BE M RATED LATER ON. Dumbledore/Hermione/Ron BASHING.

 

It was that same night, when Harry had closed his curtains, and lay down upon his mattress, that he heard the voice again.

"So, you have solved the mystery." The voice – Lord Voldemort's voice stated, matter of factly.

Harry sat up in a flash.

"My Lord" Harry whispered reverently out into the air, "It is such an honour to speak with you."

The dark lord chuckled at this.

"Such respect you hold for me, yet we are mortal enemies are we not?"

"We are meant to be...but why should I hate you?"

"I killed your parents Harry. I even attempted to kill you! Is that not enough of a reason to hate me?"

Harry shook his head.

"I cannot hate you for something I cannot remember. I understand why you had to kill them. I would have done the same as you in that position."

"Yesss." The dark lord hissed out in parseltongue inside Harry's mind, "We are so very alike, you and me... so very alike..."

Harry felt his eyes begin to droop shut, but he fought against it, wanting to continue speaking to Lord Voldemort in his mind.

"Sleep child. I shall meet you in your dreams."

With that Harry surrendered to the darkness. As soon as his eyes had shut, he found himself in the same office he had dreamed of previously, but there was a major difference from last time. Behind the desk, sat in the chair, was a man who appeared to be around twenty. He had a chiselled, pale, aristocratic looking face, and his shoulder length, wavy chocolate locks framed his face perfectly. The man was dressed in an undone, emerald poet shirt (much like Harry's own) with black, leather pants that were propped up, crossed on the desk. His plump, red wine coloured lips turned up into a smirk as he watched Harry look over and take in his appearance. Harry's eyes finally met the man's and upon seeing the glowing crimson orbs staring into his emerald ones, he knelt down on both knees.

"My Lord..."

Harry trailed off, thinking this must be his imagination. How could THE Dark Lord – Voldemort be there, before him, even if it was just a dream. Voldemort's smirk widened, and he swept out of his seat and came to stand before Harry. He knelt down to Harry's level and lifted Harry's chin, so their eyes could meet once more. Harry was immediately overwhelmed with the sensations, that were completely intensified when Lord Voldemort touched him. The other must have felt something too, for he surveyed his hand, curiosity clearly evident in his glowing, red eyes.

"Harry..."

"HARRY!"

Harry's eyes snapped open to find Draco over him, shaking him awake. Harry looked round the dormitory to find it completely empty, save for himself and Draco.

"Harry. It's 11:30am! Anyway, I just wanted to give you your Christmas present before father picks me up in ten minutes." Draco then handed him a small, black box with a green ribbon tied on top of it.

Harry smiled genuinely at Draco for the gift. He had never received a gift of any kind before.

"Thank you Draco."

Draco beamed at him, before stating that he had to go and saying goodbye. Draco had invited Harry to stay at Malfoy Manor for the holidays, but Harry had politely declined, preferring the idea of two weeks of solitude instead.

Harry untied the ribbon, and lifted the lid off the box. What he found inside made him smirk. Draco had left a note along side the present.

Dear Harry,

Father thought it fitting for you to have this.

It is apparently a very expensive and rare item, which should be treasured and cared for.

Merry Christmas!

From your friend

Draco

Harry lifted the silver necklace out of the box, and rested it in his palm. A locket hung from a chain, crafted out of the purest of silver. The locket, which was also made of silver, had emeralds twisting down its length, in the shape of an "S".

It is beautiful.

Harry unclasped the necklace, lifted it over his head and re clasped it again when it was safely around his neck.

He spent the majority of the day in the library, trying to read up on the fourth year course, yet he could not focus at all. Harry kept thinking about Lord Voldemort.

Was it real? Was it just a dream?

Harry wasn't sure, but he hoped it was real. He really did...

After he and Ella had finished their evening meals, they retired to the dormitories.

One moment Harry was in bed, reading a book on the dark arts, and the next we standing in that office again. It took him a moment to realise that he must have fallen asleep. He looked over to the desk, wanting to see Lord Voldemort sitting at it again, yet he was left disappointed for no one was there. He sighed. Of course. I knew it could not be so...

"Harry..."

Said boy whirled around to find the source of the voice, and found the dark lord, in all his glory, casually leaning against the door frame. He knelt to the ground before Lord Voldemort.

The man chuckled in response, stepped forward and placed his hand upon Harry's shoulder which initiated a shiver through Harry.

"You need not bow for me."

Harry met the dark lord's searching gaze.

"It is extraordinary, this connection we share."

Lord Voldemort brushed his hand against Harry's right cheek, watching how Harry shivered and how his eyes drooped slightly at his touch.

"It is strange. I feel as though I have known you all my life, and yet I have not."

Lord Voldemort let his hand linger upon Harry's cheek.

"What is this...?"

Lord Voldemort released his hold on Harry and walked up to his desk abruptly. Harry followed his fluid movements with his eyes, and stood up. When the dark lord had sat at his desk, he watched Harry, who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, in amusement. He conjured a green armchair with a flick of his hand, which landed slowly next to his own chair and gestured for Harry to come, and sit. Harry did just this, and the two sat in a strangely companionable silence for a few moments. Voldemort broke the silence.

"Harry. I know you have many questions to ask me. I shall try to answer them as best as I can." He offered Harry a rare, genuine smile which made Harry smile back at him.

"My Lord I..."

"Please, call me Voldemort, Harry."

Harry's smile grew at this. It was such an honour!

"Voldemort...I was wondering, where are we...?"

"We are currently in the room I am occupying in reality."

Harry nodded at this, but his brow furrowed as a thought passed through his mind.

"Why is it that everyone believes you to be vanquished? No one could have been certain of it, could they?"

"That question has a one word answer: Dumbledore."

Voldemort spat the name with more venom and hate than Harry had thought ever to be possible.

"The meddling old man! He plays with peoples' lives to suit his own purposes, and to achieve his own aspirations. He was the one to tell the public that I, the most powerful wizard of all time, had been vanquished by a baby! He was the one that placed you in the Dursleys' care, against the last wishes of your parents! He knew what they did to you, and he did nothing to stop it!"

Voldemort gazed into Harry's eyes.

"They hurt you."

Voldemort knelt in front of Harry, and let his hand stroke Harry's cheek where a single tear had begun to fall. Voldemort looked over Harry's face and finally met the boy's watery gaze. Harry had not let his emotions show for seven years, and now here he was, breaking down in front of THE dark lord, but he felt no need or desire to hide his emotions from this man. Voldemort took Harry's hands in his own.

"I swear that I shall protect you Harry Potter – my horcrux."

Harry looked at Voldemort in confusion, and Voldemort explained.

"The night I tried to...kill you, something extraordinary happened. A piece of my soul detached from my body and entered the closest thing to it – you. Harry, you carry a piece of my soul inside of you, that is how it is possible for me to speak to you inside your mind, without making eye contact with you, like a regular legillemence."

Harry stared at Voldemort in shock. He had a piece of Voldemort's soul in him? This was...amazing!A smile of utter happiness grew on Harry's face and Voldemort looked relieved at this reaction. He had been afraid that Harry would want to remove the soul piece from himself.

"Am I your only...horcrux?" Harry asked, testing the new word on his tongue. Voldemort shook his head in response.

"No, you are not. I have six other horcruxes: Hufflepuff's Cup, Ravenclaw's Diadem, A diary, Marvolo Gaunt's ring, Slytherin's locket and my familiar: Nagini."

Harry's eyes widened as he heard the last two on the list. Could Voldemort be talking about the locket Draco gave to me? Nagini! I remember her! "How is Nagini? I have not seen her for several years..."

Voldemort stared at Harry in bewilderment. "You have met Nagini? Tell me, was she well when you last saw her, for I have not seen her for such a long time..."

"Yes, she was well when I saw her, but she was rather upset by your disappearance." Voldemort seemed to be a little disheartened by his familiars grief, so Harry quickly changed the subject.

"You said that one of your horcruxes was Slytherin's locket. What does this locket look like?"

Voldemort cast him a curious glance before replying:

"The locket hangs upon a silver chain. It has tiny emerald cuts that form the shape of an 'S' on the front. Why do you ask?"

Harry reached into his top, where he knew the locket was hanging from his neck and pulled it out, so that Voldemort could see it. Voldemort's eyes widened slightly as he saw the locket that Harry was wearing. He reached forward and fingered the locket with care.

"Who gave this to you?"

"Draco Malfoy gave it to me earlier today as a Christmas present. I did not know it belonged to you, I'm sorry I shall give it you back."

Voldemort clasped Harry's hands in his own, before Harry could remove the locket from his neck.

"No. Harry, I want you to have it. I know that you will take care of it for me and there is no one else on this world that I would rather carry a piece of my soul, than you."

They gazed into each other's eyes. Voldemort leant forward, and brushed Harry's hair behind his ear. "Harry, I must ask you for your help." Harry smiled again, before replying:

"I shall help you in any way that I can."

Voldemort returned the smile, before leaning back in his chair once again.

"Harry, within your dreams I appear to be what I should in the real world, and yet I do not. I am very weak Harry. I am living as a parasite. I need an object, an object only you can retrieve. It will fully restore my power. Could you bring this object to me?"

Harry nodded eagerly in response. Voldemort chuckled at his childlike behaviour.

"I need you to bring me the Philosopher's Stone. It is located in the forbidden room, on the third floor corridor at Hogwarts. There are many challenges set in place which you will have no trouble passing with your level of skill."

Harry blushed at this compliment,

"I shall be there with you, in your mind when you attempt to retrieve the stone, so I can help you if you are unsure of what to do at any stage. At this time, I do not know the specifics of the challenges in store, but I will try to help you as much as I can at the time."

Harry nodded his head in understanding.

"You must wake up soon Harry, or else you will miss breakfast, but before you leave I must tell you: the more we interact and grow closer in your dreams, the more our bond will grow. It will increase in power and soon we will be able to communicate in day time frequently."

Voldemort tilted Harry's chin upward, so they could lock eyes with each other.

"I do not know why I feel this warmth rushing through my veins when our skin touches. It is not part of being a horcrux. No. It is something far different..."

Voldemort smiled at Harry, before the room faded into darkness and Harry awoke in his bed.

Harry only had one thought on his mind:

Voldemort has entrusted me with the retrieval of the Philosopher's Stone and I sure as hell am not going to disappoint him!


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER AND EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH THE FRANCHISE BELONGS TO J.K ROWLING. I REPEAT I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. BUT ANY OC'S IN THIS STORY BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: THIS WILL BE SLASH. THIS IS A HARRYMORT FANFICTION (HARRY/VOLDEMORT SLASH) SLYTHERIN!HARRY DARK!HARRY

THIS WILL BE M RATED LATER ON. Dumbledore/Hermione/Ron BASHING.

 

Harry spent the next few days in the library, reading books from the restricted section after using his charm to get a pass from Professor Flitwick. He read books mostly on dreams, so he could try and understand how it was possible that Lord Voldemort could enter his dream scape. Harry's search had been futile, with the books only stating how dreams could sometimes act as a way of telling us our deepest desires and such other nonsense.

It was on 25th of December – Christmas Day (which Harry had completely forgotten about) that Harry had a not so welcome chat with Dumbledore. He had been on his way to the library when the old coot accidentally "bumped" into him.

"Oh I'm sorry my boy, I didn't see you down there."

Harry tried not to glare at his headmaster. Not only did he completely detest the man for manipulating everything in his life, but the man had the complete audacity to make a dig at Harry's height. If there was one thing that Harry hated: it was people reminding him of how small he was. It made him seem so...not threatening if that makes sense.

Harry plastered a fake smile onto his face, before he replied:

"It is quite alright sir, I should have been looking where I was going."

Even though he had been looking just fine.

Dumbledore beamed down at him, eyes twinkling madly.

"Nothing to worry about my boy!"

He then gestured, with a pale wrinkled hand, for Harry to continue on, whilst he began walking along the boy.

"I haven't had a chance to ask, how have you been fitting in at Hogwarts Harry?"

Harry was beyond irritated by the friendly and familiar manner in which the Headmaster chose to address him, but did not let it show on his face.

"I have been fairing well Headmaster. The older slytherin's have been very helpful, and I have made several friends."

The older slytherin's had actually been quite helpful, mostly because they feared and awed him. Oh yes, Harry remembered the day the other slytherin's had found out he was a parselmouth...

Harry sat at the couch before the lit, open fire on his own, reading a book, written in parseltongue. He was just about to move onto a section about an incantation in parselmagic that could be used to transfigure oneself into the form of their familiar, when a seventh year boy – Darrius Theadred Black (a very distant relative of one Belatrix Black/Lestrange) – decided to stand before him.

"What are you doing in here Potter?"

Darrius questioned with venom.

Harry didn't even lift his eyes from the page, knowing it would irk the boy more.

"Hmm...I was not aware that the common room was off limits to first year slytherin's."

"Well it is to you!" When Harry continued to focus on his book, the older boy shouted: "YOU WILL LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!" Whilst simultaneously snatching the book from Harry's hands, and throwing it...into the fire.

Harry closed his eyes in an attempt to calm his anger that was beginning to grow to unhealthy levels. Harry spoke in a deceptively calm voice:

"I do hope you realise what you have just done."

Darrius cackled at this, before leaning down and getting right into Harry's face.

"Strike a nerve, did I? That crappy, old book mean something to you?" The boy spat – literally – in Harry's face.

"I wonder what the owner of that book would say if he discovered that you had destroyed it..?" Harry said, casually removing the spit off his face with the back on his hand.

"Ooooh! What you gonna do half blood?" Darrius asked, confident smirk on his face.

By this point, quite a large audience of students had gathered in the common room to witness the 'fight' between Darrius and Harry.

Ella chose that moment to slither onto the couch and onto Harry's shoulder, making Darrius jump back as if stung. Harry looked up at the older boy and let a dark, sinister smirk don his face, before turning his head to meet Ella's eyes.

"Yesss. What ssshould we do Ella?" Harry spoke in parseltongue.

Horrified gasps resounded around the room, and Darrius' brown eyes widened considerably, and his jaw dropped.

Harry chuckled lightly at the response he got and waited for the students to regain composure.

"You can...you can speak parseltongue!" Darrius exclaimed in awe.

"Yesss" Harry hissed out in parseltongue and the students watching could have sworn they saw his eyes flash red in that second...

After that incident, all slytherin's never gave him any hassle, and the vast majority took to avoiding Harry at all costs, which suited him just fine. The older slytherin's had also gave Harry some books they had read, and did not need any more. This new arrangement was rather rewarding for Harry and he was pleased by it.

"Hmmm yes. I was a bit shocked when you didn't get into Gryffindor. That is where your parents went after all." Dumbledore said in a patronising tone, "Ahh, Lily and James Potter. Two of Hogwarts' finest students. Oh how I miss them..."

Dumbledore trailed off in sorrow, looking down at the floor as if he were upset.

Who did this man think he is? He's the reason why they got fucking killed! He has no right to pretend to care!

Harry remained as composed as ever on the outside, but inside he was fuming. He tried to control his anger, but he couldn't. Soon, his anger would show on the outside if nothing calmed it.

"Harry. It is all right. I am here."

Harry seemed to calm instantaneously at the soothing voice.

"Voldemort..."

He didn't really know what to say after that. Voldemort had told him that as their meetings in his dreams progressed, so would their link, and that it would be soon that Voldemort would be able to communicate with Harry in his mind, but he was still a bit stunned. It was the first time this had ever happened.

"My boy, are you okay?"

Dumbledore questioned, with a slightly worried look on his face.

"Yes sir... It was just the mention of my parents..."

Harry replied, plastering a fake hurt look on his face at the subject of his parents, when in actuality, he could not give a tiny rat's ass.

"Oh Harry!"

Dumbledore exclaimed, before kneeling down and giving Harry a hug.

A hug.

The only thing that kept Harry from killing the man then and there, was Voldemort's voice in his head.

"Shush Harry it is alright. Wait...he is not going to... OH THAT SENILE OLD MAN! WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS! HUGGING YOU AS IF YOU BELONGED TO HIM! WELL, NO! YOU ARE MINE HARRY, NOT HIS!"

Harry's heart skipped a beat. He had never heard Voldemort speak so passionately about a subject, and knowing that the subject was Harry himself made him burst with happiness on the inside.

He cares...

"Of course I care Harry. How could I not?"

Harry did not realise he had been smiling, but when he did, he used it to his advantage.

"Thank you sir. I needed that."

Harry exclaimed, before wiping imaginary tears off his cheek, with his sleeve.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled madly at this.

"No problem my boy."

They came to a stop outside the library, where Harry had been leading them to.

"Ah. Going to the library I see. Very studious aren't you? You would have done well in Ravenclaw. I have heard from your professors that you are extremely intelligent my boy."

Harry looked down at the floor in fake embarrassment.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together, before looking back to Harry.

"Well, I won't keep you from your studying my boy!"

With that, Dumbledore left Harry, who then entered the library.

Harry sat himself in a secluded, dark corner before pulling out a book on famous magical artefacts, which he had found in the restricted section a few days ago. He had not forgotten about the assignment Voldemort had tasked him with, and he wanted a better understanding on what he was trying to find. Harry opened the large tome. He thought it may take ages for him to search through the book before he found what he was searching for, but thankfully there was a contents page.

Page 398 : The Philosopher's Stone/The Elixir of Life – Nicholas Flamel

Harry quickly turned to the page and read the text:

The Elixir of Life is a potion, created from the Philosopher's stone that extends the life of the drinker.

The Elixir grants the drinker an indefinitely extended life, for as long as they keep drinking it regularly, though, the frequency with which it needs to be consumed (along with its entire creation process) is unknown.

A person that relies on the Elixir will die if they cannot obtain more Elixir before the last quantity imbibed wears off.

Harry read the passage with growing apprehension. If Voldemort consumed this elixir frequently, he will become reliant upon it. He could die... Harry did not know why he felt so utterly sad and lost by that thought, so he pushed it out of his mind.

He slammed the book shut and returned it to the shelf it belonged to, before telling the Librarian: Madame Pince that he had put it back.

After that, he travelled to the kitchens, having not eaten all day. The house elves were overjoyed that they had something to do and they all went about, making him his favourite dish: rare steak with chips, onion rings, coleslaw and a glass of water. Harry sat down on the clean, stone floor. As he took his first bite of the steak, the house elves stood before him. Some were looking nervous, thinking that Harry wouldn't like it, whilst some looked ecstatically happy for reasons unknown to Harry.

"It is very good, thank you."

That was all it took. The elves burst into tears of happiness. One even fell to the floor and hugged itself. Harry thought they were...insane, and he ate the rest of the meal quickly and quietly.

Once he had finished, it was time for him to return to his dormitory.

Querella was waiting on the bed for him when he arrived.

This was the first time Harry had saw Ella in a few days. He had just assumed she had been exploring the castle and had not gotten too worked up about it. Harry had still been worried though. She was his familiar after all.

Now, he could ask her where she had previously been.

" Ella, where have you been?"

Harry said, giving Ella a pointed look and crossing his arms.

"I am sssorry masster, but I found another ssnake! Oh! He'ss sso handssome massster!"

Harry rolled his eyes at this. It had to be about a boy.

"He called me pretty masster! Oh I wass sso happy! He ssaid I wass the mosst beautiful ssnake he had ever sseen! And he isss ssso handssome..."

Ella trailed off dreamily.

"I jussst wissh you would have told me where you were going Ella."

Harry reprimanded.

"I apologissse masster. I wass jusst didn't want to leave Venereum alone again. He hass been alone for sso long masster!"

Harry sighed.

"It iss all right Ella."

He then proceeded to climb into bed – having already put on his pyjamas and brushed his teeth.

"You can tell me more about thiss Venereum tomorrow Ella."

Ella settled herself at the end of the bed.

"Goodnight masster."

"Goodnight Ella."

Harry was in the study again – like he had done for the past few weeks. Voldemort was there, sitting at his desk, smirking at Harry as he appeared in the room.

"Harry."

Voldemort greeted fondly, before gesturing to Harry to join him on the chairs by the fire.

"I see you have been researching the Philosopher's Stone. I am pleased that you have not forgotten about your assignment."

Harry blushed at the compliment.

"I wish to have an understanding of the stone before I try and retrieve it."

Voldemort smirked again and inclined his head to Harry.

"Yes, that is rather intelligent of you."

Harry face was probably redder than Voldemort's eyes at that moment – he knew.

"Thank you my lord."

Voldemort tutted at this, and Harry looked to him in confusion.

"What did I tell you Harry?"

Realisation dawned on Harry's face.

"I'm sorry my...Voldemort."

The man chuckled at this.

"It's fine Harry. Now, tell me what happened with Dumbledore today. He must have done or said something to have made you feel as infuriated as you were earlier."

Harry recounted the conversation to Voldemort. When it got to the part where Dumbledore had hugged him, Voldemort stood up and began pacing.

"Who does that man think he is? I will kill him, that ssenile old fool. Who doess he think he iss; touching you without your conssent!"

Voldemort's speech melded into parseltongue as his anger grew.

Harry's breath hitched for an unknown reason. Voldemort mistook it for fear and immediately stopped his ranting.

"I apologise Harry. I did not mean to frighten you."

Harry nodded in response, not really knowing what to say.

After that, they spoke of trivial things like: how classes were, spells and books. Before Harry knew it, it was time to wake up.

Voldemort walked over to Harry and stood, only a few inches between them.

They stared at each other for a few moments – just looking into the others' eyes. Voldemort stepped forward and pressed his lips to Harry's scar, before whispering in Harry's ear:

"Merry Christmas, Harry"

And, just as soon as Harry began losing himself to the feelings in his scar...

He woke up.


	9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER AND EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH THE FRANCHISE BELONGS TO J.K ROWLING. I REPEAT I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. BUT ANY OC'S IN THIS STORY BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: THIS WILL BE SLASH. THIS IS A HARRYMORT FANFICTION (HARRY/VOLDEMORT SLASH) SLYTHERIN!HARRY DARK!HARRY

THIS WILL BE M RATED LATER ON. Dumbledore/Hermione/Ron BASHING

 

The next term at Hogwarts passed, for the most part, smoothly for Harry. He remained at the top of all his classes and the professors (apart from Snape) seemed to be very impressed by his skills and knowledge.

The only things that annoyed Harry about Hogwarts were the Gryffindor's; most specifically: Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger...

Harry was sat, in the centre of the library, with Draco: researching the Goblin Wars of 1213 for a History Essay set by Professor Binns. They were in the middle of an avid discussion on Porfank's regime when Granger and Weasley decided to storm up to Harry.

"OUR WHOLE WORLD IS GOING TO BURN BECAUSE OF YOU!" Ron screamed at Harry, face flushed and panting heavily.

Harry lifted an eyebrow towards them.

"I know not of what you speak. Now if you do not mind, I suggest you remove yourself from my presence. It is not in my best wishes to aggravate the librarian."

"JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? THINK YOU'RE SO ABOVE US? YOU DIRTY HALF BLOOD! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU CAN DO? I COULD CRUSH YOU! YOU SMALL GIT!"

That last comment got Harry rather annoyed. Why did everyone have to remind him of how small he was?

"Could you now?"

"YEAH! I'LL EVEN PROVE IT!"

Ron leant down towards Harry's face and spat at him.

"Think you're a tough man? We'll see 'bout that! I wanna duel, so meet me on Sunday in the old DADA classroom."

Ron withdrew and began to walk away.

"Don't think 'bout chickening out Potter, cause I will kill you," Ron shouted over his shoulder to Harry, before he left, Hermione in tow.

Harry suddenly chuckled, and Draco just gaped at him.

"What could you possibly find funny?"

Harry stared at his companion, letting a sly, evil grin slip onto his face.

"I am looking forward to this."

It rolled round to Sunday and Harry was highly anticipating the duel that was to take place that night.

At 11pm, Harry got out of his bed. He had ordered Draco to sleep, as he did not want Draco involved with this. It would completely rid Draco of his childhood...

Ella though had ordered Harry to take her! Harry saw no problem with that and even if he did, Ella would have definitely put up a fight, so Harry agreed to his familiar's demand.

Harry got dressed into a black poet shirt, black slacks and black boots. He tied his hair back with a clasp that was in the shape of a snake which he had bought on his first trip to Hogsmeade.

When he was ready to go, he let Ella slither up and wrap herself round his neck – which she had never been able to do before...

Harry took a moment to look over his familiar.

Ella had grown dramatically in the past few weeks! She was now over 1m long!

Harry felt slightly guilty for not noticing before, but he had just not saw a lot of Ella as she was always with Venereum.

"Ella, how iss it that you have grown sso large?" Harry whispered.

"Ssince our bonding, I have had the ability to connect to your magical core. I have used ssome of your magic to make me thiss way. I hope you don't mind masster."

Harry simply raised an eyebrow in response to her, but he did not really mind. He was intrigued by the idea of his familiar being able to access his magic and swore he would ask Voldemort about it later.

How surreal did that sound?

It was like a dream come true for Harry. The man he had practically obsessed over since he fist learnt of magic now spoke to him in his mind everyday – entertaining Harry in his classes. He found all his classes rather boring as he knew all of the material and he had mastered more spells than the average fourth year student.

Voldemort also visited Harry in his dreams every night, and boy did Harry love it!

Yet, Harry was also confused.

Every time Voldemort kissed his scar (which had become the regular way of Voldemort saying good bye) Harry felt butterflies in his stomach, his heart raced and he became a little light headed with the pleasurable sensations that pulsed from his scar.

He loved it.

And yet, Harry did not know if this was normal. To feel this way, to be enjoying it, to like Voldemort kissing him. Was that normal?

Harry was confused.

Harry cast a disillusionment charm on himself and Ella before they made their way out of the Slytherin dormitories under a silencing spell.

They made it to the designated classroom at exactly 11:55pm.

He conjured a chair and perched himself upon it: in the darkest corner of the room. Harry cancelled the spells he had cast upon his person and waited.

Ron arrived at 12:10am. The sight he was met with sent a fearful shiver down his spine.

Inside, the room was freezing as if the all the heat had been completely sucked out.

The room was lit by one singular candle, which hung from the closest, grimy stone wall to the door.

Ron's eyes were not drawn to this light however.

They were focused on the ominous looking, pitch black corner of the desolate room.

Green orbs snapped open and Ron had to forcefully hold back the scream which had began to tear through his throat.

'His eyes are...glowing!' Ron thought in growing terror.

Ron cautiously took a step back, wishing to be anywhere but before this 'freakish creature'.

Harry stood.

In a flash, Harry pinned Ron to the stone wall and wrapped his hand around the terrified, ginger's throat.

"I do hope you realise how foolish you have been."

Harry announced in a deceptively cool tone.

Before Ron had even a chance to beg to be released from Harry's tightening grip, Harry slammed the boy's head into the wall harshly, knocking Ron unconscious.

'Very good, Harry,' Voldemort purred in Harry's mind.

'Where shall I take him?' Harry asked Voldemort in his mind.

'Hmm... Take him down to our chamber. I shall direct you there.'

Harry nodded in response. He cast a disillusionment and silencing charm on himself, Ron and Ella – who was all but cackling in glee at the dark aura that was oozing from Harry. Harry then proceeded to cast a levitating spell on Ron, before making his way down to the chamber of secrets.

They arrived at the chamber's entrance ten minutes later. Ella was practically jumping up and down in excitement, for a reason Harry was not quite sure of...

'What do I do now?' Harry questioned, surveying the sinks – which Voldemort had told him were the entrance.

'Command the door to open in parseltongue.'

Harry took a step back and whispered in the tongue of snakes:

"Open for me!"

Suddenly, the sinks separated from one another. The top of the sink lifted up of its own accord, and the sink directly in front of Harry slid down into the ground, leaving a sizeable gap in its wake.

When the opening was completely ready, Harry whispered:

"Sstairss!"

In a blink of an eye, a winding staircase appeared, and without much further ado, Harry began his descent.

They came to a stop when they were in front of a circular, metal door – which had a sleeping, metal snake wound round the outside of it, locking the door.

"Command it to open"

Voldemort prompted Harry in his mind.

"Openn!"

Harry commanded in parseltongue.

Slit, yellow eyes snapped open.

The snake slithered round the circumference of the door, effectively unlocking it, allowing Harry to step through – Ron in tow.

Harry held In a gasp at the beauty of the chamber.

The floors were made of black marble, and the walls were made of a shimmering, silver marble. At the end of the vast chamber was a huge engraving of a snake's head on the wall, which made the room look rather foreboding.

Harry loved it!

He let Ronald drop to the ground, whilst he climbed down the ladder.

Once upon the marble floor, Harry dragged Ron by the collar of his shirt towards the centre of the chamber.

He removed the charms upon the three of them, wanting to hear what Ella was so excited about...and Ron's screams...

"What hasss you sso exccited my ssweet?"

Harry questioned his familiar who had already slithered off his body and was making her way towards the snake's head.

"Ohhh masster! Thiss is where Venereum livess! He hass wanted to meet you masster!"

"Well, you can vissit Venereum, whilsst I...take care of thiss fool."

Ella slithered away happily, hissing in excitement about seeing her 'boyfriend'.

Harry shook his head fondly at her antics, before taking his wand out of his pocket and aiming it at Ron.

"What should I do first?"

"Bind him and hang him from the wall."

Harry did just that, with a quick incarcerous.

He forced Ron to wake and the ginger screamed.

Harry slapped the boy.

"Now you will be QUIET!"

Ron whimpered and closed his eyes, wishing this was all just a dream.

"Now, I have several spells I must practise, and you will be my subject."

"Please! Have mercy!"

Harry chucked his head back, and cackled evilly, before flashing Ron a sinister smile.

He grabbed the struggling boy's throat and whispered in his ear:

"You sshan't have merccy."

Harry stood back and pointed his wand at Ron's chest.

"Make your peace with the Gods Ronald! CRUCIO!"

Ron screamed at the immense pain that ran through his body. It was like his veins were on fire!

Harry's eyes slid shut at the pleasure he found from casting the spell.

His breath became ragged as he held the curse longer and his stupor was only broken when Ronald stopped screaming – having passed out from the pain.

Harry stopped the spell, and he had to lean against the wall as he was overthrown with the after effects of such pleasure.

"Very good Harry."

Harry smiled at the praise and opened his eyes once more.

"What now?"

"Hmm... I believe it would be in your best interests to hold Weasley down here as your test subjects as I teach you more spells."

"Won't Dumbledore question me? I mean, Granger does know that I had a duel planned with Ron today..."

"Just inform the old fool that you would never even think to break school rules and that you were asleep. As for Granger, well, two test subjects could not hurt."

Harry smirked and nodded.

At that moment, Ella slithered back out and raced towards him.

"Masster! Venereum wishess to meet you!"

"I wissh to meet him alsso. I do want to know who hass sstole my familar'ss heart after all."

If snakes could blush, Ella would have been as red as a tomato at the moment.

"Venny! Masster agreess!" Ella shouted.

The huge snake's head opened and out slithered the largest snake Harry had ever laid eyes upon.

"Musst you inssist on calling me that?" Venereum sighed.

"It'ss cute!" Ella replied happily.

"Exactly..." Venereum murmered, before bringing his attention to Harry – who was quite amused by the couple's antics.

"I'm Venereum, and you musst be Ella'ss masster."

"Yess. Finally I get the chancce to meet the famed Venereum. How did you two meet anyway? Oh, and pleasse call me Harry."

"Ella, would you like to tell Harry how we met?"

"Oh, but you're ssoo better at telling it Venny!"

Venereum sighed again.

"Fine. I wass having a nicce day in my chamber – having a dip in the lake – and all of a ssudden I hear thiss loud bang from one of my tunnelss. I went to invesstigate, and I found Ella on her back – having fallen from the wall. Sshe wass curssing loudly about how the world wass againsst her and I went over and helped her up. After that, we talked about how sshe got here and what sshe was doing here. Sshe deccided to visit me every day ssincce. Now, sshe's the love of my life, aren't you darling?"

Harry chuckled when Ella ducked her head in embarrassment, before slithering up onto Venereum's head.

"Well, it wass a pleassure meeting you Venereum. If it iss not too much trouble, could you pleasee keep an eye on the boy over there for me? I sshall return in two dayss time. I want him to eat nothing."

"It sshall be done Harry."

Harry nodded and looked to Ella.

"I ssupposse you would prefer to remain here tonight?"

Ella's eyes lit up.

"Yesss! Oh thank you masster!"

Harry chuckled and began to make his way out of the chamber and back to the dormitory.

Once safely in his bed, Harry cast another tempus to find that it was 3:47am and he quickly fell asleep in anticipation of his next meeting with Voldemort...

Harry appeared in the study once again.

He quickly scanned the room, and found no Voldemort at his desk.

Harry was about to look behind him, when a pair of strong arms slid around his waist.

"Hello Harry."

Said boy could not repress a shiver when he heard that deep, sultry voice whisper in his ear.

The embrace ended after a moment, and Voldemort sat by the fire, gesturing for Harry to do the same.

"I am very pleased with your progress Harry."

Harry blushed at the praise and lowered his head hoping to hide it from Voldemort – who, unbeknownst to Harry, smiled at his antics.

"When shall I go to collect the Philosopher's stone?"

Voldemort pondered for a moment.

"It would be ideal for you to retrieve it at a time when Dumbledore is not present in the school, that way, he cannot interfere with your task."

Harry nodded his understanding, and they both sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.

Voldemort stood abruptly and walked over to his desk. After sorting through one of his drawers, he came to sit back down – with a large tome in his hand.

"I want you to read this book. It contains dark curses – most unknown that could be helpful in the future."

Harry took the book that was offered to him, and shot Voldemort a questioning glance.

"Unknown you say?"

"They are unknown because these spells have not been publicly documented. They are spells of my own creation which I believe you could benefit from."

Harry tried to remain impassive on the outside, but on the inside he was brimming with pride. Voldemort was entrusting with the knowledge of some spells that no one else has ever even heard of!

"Thank you."

Harry replied in slight awe at the large size of the tome.

After that, Harry began to read.

When he came to terms or passages he was not quite sure of, he queried Voldemort and the man explained to him their meanings.

Harry had read around a quarter of the book when it was time to wake up.

Voldemort stood and leant down, letting his lips kiss Harry's cheek.

"I shall see you tonight Harry."


End file.
